Chapter 11: Tae Time

"Trunks? Did it work?"

Trunks's face broke into a grin at the familiar voice and surroundings – third time really was the charm. "Mom!" popping the hatch open he jumped down to run over to where his mother was standing, with her old baseball cap and the familiar lines on her face. "It did! We did it, Mom!" laughing he hugged her, then spun her around. "I missed you!"

"Yeah, well, I didn't – it's only been two minutes," she huffed, though without heat, "Kami, Trunks, how long were you in the past?! You've grown-" her words cut off abruptly as she stiffened in his arms.

Letting her down, Trunks turned to see the direction she was looking and saw his boyfriend climbing out of the time machine. "Oh yeah, Mom, this is-"

"Yamcha." The name was barely a breath, and then his mother was gone from his arms, running to fling herself on the confused youth, where she clung to him, "Oh kami, Yamcha, you're okay, you're alive," she started to shake as she spoke, a few tears sliding down her cheeks, "You're okay…"

Trunks stared for a moment before the zeni dropped. "Wait, you're THAT Yamcha?! But- you can't be, you're nothing like him-" he brought his hands up to rub his temples, "Oh shit, no wonder so much changed…"

Yamcha, meanwhile, was looking between the two with growing confusion and fear. "I- Mirai? What's going on? Ms. Bulma?" he put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back, "What's wrong? I didn't think I'd have met you in this timeline."

Bulma stiffened. "In this-" then she looked at him, really looked at him, traced the smooth skin of his left cheek with a thumb, "You're still just a kid…"

Yamcha glared, stepping back. "I'm seventeen, I'm not a kid. And I was trained by-"

"-Master Muten Roshi, I know," Bulma interrupted with an aching smile, only for Yamcha to frown at her.

"What? No, Masters Shinhan, Krillin, and Lunch. Raditz taught me some stuff, too."

"Raditz?!" Bulma gaped at him, then turned to her son. "Trunks, sweetie? What did you do to the past?!"

"Well, for starters?" Trunks rubbed the back of his neck, "The time machine was miscalibrated and I went back farther than I was supposed to."

"And?" Bulma folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

Trunks winced. "And I…kinda maybe sorta stole your boyfriend before you met him?" he asked more than answered. "In my defence," he added in the resulting silence as his mother and boyfriend both gaped at him, "I did not know he was the same Yamcha as your Yamcha!"

"Um, excuse me? Lord Yamcha?" they all looked up to see Pu'ar peering nervously out of the time machine at them. "Is it safe to come down yet?"

"…yeah, it's safe," the young bandit replied after another wary look at Bulma, walking over and holding up his arms to his friend, "Come on down."

Pu'ar hestitated a moment longer, then hopped down and let him catch her. Bulma blinked at the two of them, one hand covering her mouth, and Trunks swallowed. His mom was in her fifties, he knew that logically, but… this was the first time he'd ever seen her actually look it. "…Mom?"

She started as he put his arms around her, and gave him an unconvincing grin. "Why I thought this would be simple I do not know – you are related to me, after all." Her eyes drifted back to the time travellers and her smile grew pained. "I- come on. Let's go inside before we get spotted; you can explain it all to me in there."

OoOoOoOoO

Bulma had sat quietly as Trunks told her about his adventures in the past, sitting together in the living room of the shelter, her eyes occasionally staying to the other young man seated next to her son on the couch when he added onto the story as he deemed necessary – tails and bandits, Z Warriors and technical malfunctions, desert encounters and blossoming romance.

Afterwards Bulma got up, went over to a drawer, and pulled out a handful of papers, flipping through them until she found the one she wanted. Then she walked back over and handed it to Trunks. It was an old photo of her and of a man her age, with gelled black hair and some impressive facial scars. They were watching a baby Trunks examine a leaf that had blown onto their picnic blanket and laughing.

"This was taken with you were a few months old," she said quietly, "A bit before the androids first appeared."

Trunks stared at the photo in confusion. "But… I thought you hated him. I thought he cheated on you and broke your heart."

Bulma started, then laughed, the first proper laugh he'd heard from her since she'd seen his tag-alongs. "Cheat? Yamcha? Where would you get an idea like that?!"

"You said you yelled at him about cheating all the time!"

"Well, yeah. I never said I was right," Bulma raised an amused eyebrow at him, "You may not have realized this, Trunks, but sometimes Mommy can be kinda jealous and make baseless accusations. And had kind of a low opinion of men's ability to stay true when she was younger…" her smile grew sad again as she looked at the photo, "We dated on and off again for fifteen years before we… well, it took us both awhile to grow up enough to realize we weren't good for each other – not like that…"

Trunks handed the picture to Yamcha as he got up to give his mom another hug. Yamcha, for his part, kept his gaze on the image, eyes locked on the man in it. When he finally spoke his tone was confused. "Mirai… that's me. That's kinda obviously me. How- how did you not make the connection?" his voice was quiet, with a hint of fear.

Trunks shrugged helplessly from where he stood. "Mom never told me how she met… other you; I never asked. I was always more interested in hearing about my dad than him," he frowned down at the picture, "Plus, there's the scars. And the hair. Never do that to your hair."

"I will never do that to my hair," Yamcha agreed, though his smile was half-hearted as he looked between the picture, Bulma, and the youth he'd given up everything he'd known for. "So… what now? I mean," he shook his head, frustrated, glaring at the picture, "This isn't me. I mean, it is, obviously, but… it's not. I mean…" he gave Trunks a helpless look, "Is this the part where it gets too weird and I lose you?"

"What? No!" Trunks gave his mom an apologetic look, then went back to the couch and pulled the bandit to his feet so they were at eye level with each other, "That guy, that's my mom's Yamcha. You're my Yamcha – you met my mom for the first time when we went to the past-future, you're a year younger than me, you learned how to fly from me, you're not him." He pulled his boyfriend into a hug, tail wrapping halfway around both their waists, "What he did doesn't matter. No regrets."

"No regrets," Yamcha smiled and leaned into him with a relieved sigh, "Thanks." They held their position for a moment before Yamcha glanced at Bulma and frowned. "What?"

"Hm?" Bulma blinked, then wiped her eyes with a bit of a smile, "Nothing, just… old memories." She shook her head and chuckled, "And, honestly, I hadn't expected anything like this. I… had braced myself for the chance that Goku might be along for the ride, but not you. I'm… just… Trunks, please tell me you found a way to beat them? I don't think I can bear watching this idiot die a third time."

"A third time?! What do you-" Yamcha started, but Trunks interrupted him

"Yeah," he said, voice quiet but firm, "I trained while I was in the past, a lot, like you heard. I can do it now, Mom – I can win this time."

"Good," Bulma nodded, then, finally, turned to Yamcha again, the first time she'd really looked at him with no ghosts in her eyes since they'd come inside. Hesitantly she smiled at him. "I suppose I can't beat you up, either – from what Trunks said you were a perfect gentleman. As freaking always," she rubbed a hand over her face and sighed, "I'm sorry, I'll do my best, but this will take some getting used to."

"I'm… honestly surprised you're not freaking out more," Yamcha admitted, and Bulma laughed.

"Sweetie, from what I've heard you should know me better than that. I ran with the Z Warriors, after all. It's just… he was one of my best friends; even after we broke up for good, we were close. And I miss him – all of them – so much. Seeing you, Yamcha… it reminded me how much." She turned back to Trunks before he could respond, switching topics abruptly. "Well, fascinating as all this is, we've got a whole lot of not killing androids going on. Trunks? Show him to your room so he can put his stuff away and I'll go get on the radio – enough time's passed, those menaces have probably gotten up to something by now."

"…my room?" Trunks asked, surprised, "Not- not the spare room or couch?"

Bulma gave him a very dry look. "You've been dating him for nearly a year – if you aren't at least sleeping with him platonically by now then I'm rescinding your right to call yourself a Briefs. Especially when I know exactly how much he likes to snuggle." Tossing a wave over her shoulder at the two gaping teens, she strode out of the room. "Let's get cracking, boys, we've got a robot apocalypse to end! Pu'ar, you're with me – I assume you know how to work a radio?"

"You bet!" Pu'ar squeaked, bobbing up from the couch to give Yamcha a pat on the cheek before zipping over to circle Bulma a couple times and follow her from the room. The boys stood in silence, watching them go.

"…this is gonna be so weird, isn't it?" Yamcha finally asked as Bulma's footsteps faded down the hall.

"Almost certainly," Trunks rubbed his temples, glancing at him, "Is this the bit where it gets too weird for you?"

"Psh, you kidding?" Yamcha raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to his boyfriend and bumping shoulders with him, "I only came here for one reason, remember? And he's right here next to me." Turning Trunks's head with one hand, he placed a gentle kiss on his lips, smiling into it. "Come on, Mirai – show me where our room is so you can find those monsters and get on with rebuilding the world."

Trunks gave him a small smile. "I thought you didn't care about the world."

"Oh I don't," Yamcha reassured him cheerfully, "But you do, so that gives me a good reason to pretend to."

"You're terrible," Trunks laughed, pushing him away with one hand.

"I am," Yamcha agreed, eyes sparkling, "And you love it."

"I do," Trunks agreed as well, "I really do. Come on, follow me – and pay close attention, okay, we've got some… security measures you'll want to avoid."

"…you and your mom have this whole placed rigged to the gills, don't you?"

"Um," Trunks blushed, "It's- I mean- yes. Yes we do. Don't touch anything with flowers on it, you won't get your hand back."

Yamcha followed with a mixture of interest, attentiveness, and somewhat morbid curiosity as Trunks led him down several corridors, listening as the older teen explained the various security measures and tells to him. They didn't make it to the bedroom, though. Halfway there Bulma came skidding down a side hall, grim-faced. "Thank Kai, you're here – I've got a location on them."

"Where are they?" Trunks halted, body language becoming more tense as he turned to her.

"You know how they've been leaving district 47 alone?"

Trunks went pale. "I- no, that's- the hospital is-"

"Not anymore," Bulma cut him off, not giving him time to process his thoughts, "Or, if it is, it won't be for long."

The demi-saiyan swore and handed Yamcha his sword and capsule case. "Hold onto these for me?"

"Sure," Yamcha wedged the case into his satchel, holding the sheathed sword in one hand. "Kiss?"

"For luck?"

"Psh, like you need that," Yamcha wrinkled his nose, "I just wanna kiss you."

Trunks blinked, then laughed and gave him a quick peck before belting down the hall.

"And the next fight I'm going too!" Yamcha bellowed after him through cupped hands before leaning against the wall and grinning in the direction he'd gone. After a moment he turned to Bulma, who was regarding him with a raised eyebrow, and became abruptly aware again of the fact that this was not the Bulma he had known for the past year and who had assured him many times that he had nothing to be shy about when being openly affectionate with Trunks (within reason, of course). He shifted uncomfortably. "What?"

"You really aren't him, are you?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck as Pu'ar joined them again, coming to perch on his shoulder. "I guess not. I mean, I wouldn't know – I've never met him, and I didn't meet the you from my timeline until you were already in a committed relationship with Vegeta." He hesitated, glancing at her. "Do you miss your Vegeta too?"

She shook her head ruefully. "It wasn't like that here, he wasn't… my Vegeta. Just Vegeta, a guy I knew and slept with for awhile. I'm grateful to him for donating to the creation of Trunks, but… I was never close to him like I was with Yamcha-" she winced, "-damn, this is going to get confusing fast."

Yamcha watched her for a few moments, considering, before nodding to himself and stepping towards her. "If it makes things easier, you can call me 'Tae.'" His mouth quirked at her surprised expression and he shrugged. "I may not know you specifically, but the Bulma from my timeline was cool and I liked her, and you're Mirai's mom – I don't want to be at odds with you. Besides," he grinned, "This isn't the first time I've taken a new name to go with a new life, and if it makes all this easier for you, well…"

"Oh," Bulma blinked, "That's- It's very sweet of you to- wait, what?! Yamcha's not your real name!?"

His eyes sparkled and Pu'ar giggled on his shoulder as he smirked at her. "What, you didn't guess? I'm surprised, you being so smart – no one's born with a cool name like 'Yamcha.' Anyway," he straightened up, then bowed formally from the waist, "My name is Lord Tae of Diablo Desert, and this is my friend and associate, Pu'ar of the Thousand Shapes – we're very pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you!" Pu'ar echoed cheerfully, bouncing on her friend's shoulder and giggling.

Bulma hesitated for a moment, then smiled as well and bowed back. "Bulma Briefs, gracefully aging genius. It's nice to meet you as well, Pu'ar, Tae – and to know that my son has inherited my good taste."

OoOoOoOoO

It was strange. Flying towards district 47 to do something he'd dreamed of doing his whole life, knowing that he could finally win, yet… also not entirely sure he could pull this off. He was strong enough, yes, knew his enemies' weaknesses, but… he also knew how what they could have been, who they could have been, if circumstances had been different. Maybe it had been a mistake to train with the alternate timeline's androids, to get to know them as people…

He saw them well before they saw him – 18 was throwing blasts at a building in what looked like nothing so much as a fit of pique, 17 watching her with a raised eyebrow. And a memory from Trunks's training rose unbidden to his mind. He'd been taking a break from sparring with 18, the cyborg's slightly ripped vest the only sign that she'd been doing anything other than taking a light stroll through the scrublands they were in.

"17's stronger," he'd panted, wiping off his forehead, "Why are you so hard to beat?!"

"Strength isn't everything," came the cool-toned reply, "My primary augmentations aren't like 17's – he's got that weird limitless power core that makes him so strong, he's meant to fight like the saiyans do, to overwhelm his opponents with his raw strength. Gero was afraid that wouldn't be enough, though, that he might have underestimated how powerful they could get. He was paranoid like that.

"Which is why he made me. I am designed to be a tactical fighter – my primary augmentations are in my brain and nervous system, allowing me to analyse a situation and react faster than my enemies. Power means nothing if you never get a chance to use it. I am designed to never give my opponent that chance.

"When you return to your time, take me out first. Don't give me a chance to see how you fight or to retreat and form a strategy. My brain is my weapon – don't give me a chance to use it."

This 18 didn't look like she was using her brain – she didn't look like she was thinking at all. The angry, snarling android was nothing like the cool, poised cyborg from the other timeline, these weren't the people he knew. At this point, who knew if they were people at all? More like twisted caricatures of what was and what could have been.

Trunks raised an arm, charged a blast.

It hadn't been a mistake at all.

They were nothing alike.

OoOoOoOoO

Afterwards he stood there for a moment, staring at the place 17 had been. They were… gone. The androids were gone. He had killed them. It was ov-

'-found a- a thing in the ruins, already dead, thank Kami. It was insectoid only… not. Made me sick just looking at it, to be honest…'

-not quite over. Gathering his ki, Trunks rose up and headed home. They had a trip to make – and possibly a little monster hunting to do. Because like hell Trunks was going to let some random science experiment destroy what they'd worked so hard to create.

OoOoOoOoO

Okay, before anything else… please review? Like, just a line or two, or an "I enjoyed this?" I've put a lot of work into this fic, into all my fics and, honestly, I don't get a lot of feedback, and it's discouraging. I write for myself, yes, but I share for all of you, and I want to know what you think.

Bulma seems to be remarkably good at rolling with certain types of punches in the show. She easily accepts both versions of Trunks when she learns the truth and, I dunno. She just strikes me as the type who would easily grasp that Tae and Yamcha are two different people who have many similarities while not actually being the same person anymore – Tae is seventeen, Yamcha died at age thirty-three or so, Bulma's about fifty. Tae is quite literally not the Yamcha she remembers best. Plus, while this could easily have been highly traumatic, I didn't want it to be. This is meant to be a fun fic, not an overly-painful one. I'll get into the somewhat more realistic emotional portrayal in another fic.

Tae does actually care about the world, but he will deny it with his dying breath, or at least until he's older.

"Thank Kai" – Bulma knows for a fact that, in this universe at least, god is dead. So, being the sensible lady she is, she moved to the next person up in the chain of command that she's aware of – King Kai.

Trunks still generally calls Tae 'Yamcha' and uses 'Tae' as a nickname/pet name, similar to Mirai.

Finally, I miscalculated – the next chapter will be the second-to-last chapter, not the last one, and the final chapter will actually be split in two as the chapter proper and a short epilogue. The next chapter may be a little shorter than usual, but I promise that what it lacks in size it will make up for in content. ;)